Don't let sleeping dragons lie
by silverbirch
Summary: Post DH. Everything in the garden is rosy, but Hermione still thinks something is missing. Once she figures out why, nothing will stop her from putting it right. Rate T, just in case.I don't own any of it. If I did, you'd be buying the hardback.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione awoke and luxuriated in the softness of the blankets. As always of late, it took her a few moments to realise that there was nothing to worry about. Voldemort had been defeated, and her parents were safely returned from Australia, their memory restored. Ron slept on soundly besides her, thankfully not snoring. All was well.

And yet…..

She looked at Ron's sleeping form, still blushing slightly at the thought of "living in sin". She smiled at the though of finally being a "scarlet woman" after all these years.

They had finally taken the plunge during their trip to get her parents back, and were now living happily together – well, they still argued of course, that was part of the fun - back in Hogsmeade. She, technically, was at Hogwarts in her 7th year, but due to all the hiatus of last year there were more students than ever and, as she was of age, it had been agreed she could room in the village. Ron was working with George at "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" and had offered to get the Hogsmeade branch started.

Originally, they had rented rooms – separate, single – at the "Hog's Head", but after a week, Aberforth had asked why they were payingfor two rooms and only using one, so moved them in to a "suite". This turned out to be a double room with two chairs (one broken). Shortly afterwards, they had found a cottage to rent, so had moved in to their first home. Hermione still groaned at the memory of how the information had got out in to the school. It had been at the end of a Transfiguration lesson. McGonagall was still teaching the senior students whilst the new Transfiguration teacher found his feet.

'So, Miss Granger, are you still finding the "Hog's Head" suitable accommodation? The journey isn't too difficult?'

Hermione was not really concentrating 'It's fine, Professor. Anyway, we're moving in to our own place soon.' Noooooo, why did I have to say it like that?

'I'm assuming the other part of "we" is Mr. Weasley?' McGonagall's eyes slipped unconsciously to Hermione's very obviously unringed hand. 'How very….modern'

Hermione looked down at her shoes.

'Well…we thought…it's just that…erm'

Suddenly, and to Hermione's complete surprise, McGonagall was hugging her, tears in her eyes.

'Congratulations, my dear. I hope you will both be very happy together. You deserve happiness.'

McGonagall obviously enjoyed a juicy bit of gossip as much as the next woman, and by the end of the day, most of the other teachers had added their congratulations as well. The charmed tea set the staff had brought her as a house warming present became one of her most treasured possessions.

Everything was perfect. And yet……

You know the feeling, I'm sure. Somewhere in the back of your mind is a thought, always just out of reach. Something you should have done, or ought to do, or should remember, or need to remember. And yet….

As it was a Sunday, there was no need to rush. Ron could wake up in his own time, and she snuggled back down. Out of habit, she reached for the book on the bedside table. It was "Hogwarts: a History". She opened the front cover, and saw the familiar crest, with its motto "_Draco dormiens nunquam titilandus_". Never tickle a sleeping dragon.

'Dragon!!' she squeaked, bouncing up on to her knees and pulling the covers off Ron. 'Ron, that's what it is!! Ron, wake up, WAKE UP!!' She was shaking him awake. 'Ron, that's what's been bothering me'

'Wha? 'Miney. Wha'? Go back to sleep.' He rolled over, pulling the blankets up.

'No, Ron, come on, wake up! I've been thinking about the dragon, that's what's been at the back of my mind.' She was now bouncing up and down, whilst continuing to shake him.

Ron brought his self up from the very deep sleep he'd been in, and looked up. The mane of frizzy brown hair framed a face that was now covered with excitement. She looked like a small child who had suddenly remembered it was Christmas morning, and his heart melted.

'I want to find it.

'Find what?'

'The dragon.'

'What dragon?'

'Oh, Ron! How many dragons do you know? The one we escaped from Gringotts on. I want to make sure it's alright.'

'It's a dragon, Hermione. Of course, it's alright.'

'But, Ron, how do you know? It had been chained up for years in that horrible passageway and mistreated and it's eyes weren't very good and it might have forgotten how to find food and it didn't know where it was and..and..'

'I'm not going to get any rest, am I?' He said resignedly 'It's spew all over again'

'I just want to know its OK, that's all. I'm worried about it. It saved our lives, and I think we owe it.' Ron sighed. 'Oh, pleeeeeeease, Ron, just for me. I'd be ever so grateful.'

Ron had watched a Marx Brothers film on the plane out to Australia, and thought Groucho was the funniest thing ever. He flashed his eyebrows up and down, and pretended to hold a cigar.

'Just how grateful, my dear?'

Hermione rolled her eyes, but was smiling. She pulled her night dress over her head and cast it away.

'Let me show you'.

An hour later, Ron was lying back, looking up at the ceiling, Hermione curled beside him with her head on his shoulder.

'If we're going dragon hunting, we might need some advice 'Miney. Charlie should be home for Christmas, we'll ask him then.'

Hermione raised herself up to kiss him.

'I don't think I've finished being grateful yet' she said with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Several years ago, the BBC made a "Natural History" programme which considered dragons to be real, biologically viable animals. Most of the things in this chapter are based on that programme. Thank you, Auntie Beeb.

To all the reviewers - thank you for taking the time to write. It is appreciated. On with the plot.

The biggest problem in a new relationship isn't getting along together, or arguing about who does the washing up. No. It's the perennial question "Who are we spending Christmas with this year; your parents, or mine?"

For Ron and Hermione, it was particularly tricky. Her parents wanted to see them, as they had missed out on last year. His parents – Molly in particular – wanted everyone at home, as it was the first holiday without Fred. In the end, it came down to a compromise. Christmas Eve and Day at "The Burrow", Boxing Day with the Grangers.

The celebrations were obviously muted, and Molly cried quite a lot, but at least people were there for her, and that seemed to help. It marked an important watershed for them all. They could remember the past and look forward to the future.

It was after lunch when they finally managed to get to Charlie, that quiet couple of hours whilst the turkey dinner is being digested and you are steeling yourself for the turkey sandwiches and trifle for tea.

'…. then it vanished over the mountain. Do you think we stand any chance of finding it again?'

It was Hermione who had been telling Charlie everything she could remember about the dragon. Ron secretly hoped the answer would be a resounding 'No'.

'Tricky one' Charlie said, after thinking for a moment. Hermione had always liked Charlie. He was a typical outdoor sort. His strong muscular arms and burns gave him a sense of reliability. He also knew _a lot_ about dragons.

'Dragons are like most animals. They want somewhere to live – invariably a cave – food and water. Now, your dragon probably wouldn't have wandered too far after you left it. He'd been chained up, so probably wasn't very fit, and he'd just had a long flight. You said he'd been breathing fire, as well. So that would have used up his methane supply'

Hermione and Ron assumed Charlie had said something logical, but it went right over their heads. Charlie could see confusion writ large on their faces.

'OK, basic dragon physiology. They're big heavy animals, as you know, so they use methane to help them fly. It's a gas produced during digestion and it's lighter than air. Unlike you, Ron, the dragon doesn't just waste it doing morse code botty burps'. Ron blushed and started stuttering. Hermione giggled. 'No, the dragon stores that methane in sacs around the body. He sort of turns himself in to an air balloon, if you like. Methane is also highly flammable, so if needs be, he can use the gas to shoot flames, but he can't do both. A dragon only has a few decent blasts in him, then he has to wait to replenish his supplies, and whilst that's happening, he can't fly too far. Plus, he'd taken on a lot of water, you said. That would weigh him down even more. I would say that, as long as he found a cave and food supplies nearby, he probably won't have gone too far.'

Hermione looked pleased, but Ron could see problems ahead.

'The trouble is, Hermione, we don't really know where we were and secondly, even if we did find it, we wouldn't actually know what to do next. I mean, it is a dragon, after all. It can look after itself'

Hermione was not the brightest witch of her generation for nothing. She could deal with a counter argument from Ron in her sleep.

'We've been through this, Ron, remember? We decided we owed it, and as for where we were, Harry can help us. He was steering.' Ron wasn't too sure about the last bit. 'Even if we don't find it, we've got to try'

She sat back and smiled at him. He knew when he was beaten.

She turned to Charlie. 'When's the best time to search, Charlie? Do they hibernate?'

'No, not as such. Dragons are reptiles, so they're exothermic – cold blooded, Ron. In cold weather, they'll be less active, but remember they can use flames to warm up the cave and keep active – as long as there's food around. You're probably dealing with a Hebridean Black, which is used to low temperatures as well. Even so, winter is better than summer, it'll be slower. You could start straight after the holidays. I wish I could come with you, but I need to get back to Romania.'

Harry was found and brought in to the conversation.

'Well, I wouldn't go a far as saying I steered it, Hermione. It sort of flew where it wanted. I know it went north, and we didn't cross any water. I got the feeling we ended up not far from Hogwarts, the country looked similar.'

In the end, Ron and Hermione (well, Hermione) decided they would return to Hogsmeade straight after the holidays and start the search. Ron could use his broom to identify where they had first landed, and they could then camp during the search.

Charlie had some final advice for them.

'Look, I love dragons, as you know, but I rate you two higher. Be careful, please. There's an old saying "Do not trifle with dragons, for you are small and crunchy and taste good with ketchup."

Dragons don't just use their eyes. They've got other senses, better than ours. They've got an incredible sense of smell, and almost a sixth sense. They can detect vibrations.

Don't do anything in a hurry. The best bet is to try and find the cave - there may well be bones outside, but then keep a look out. Don't try to go in to the cave and don't get yourselves caught in a blind alley. Dragons can roar alright, but they can also move very quietly when they have to.

Finally, don't tell mum, OK?'

Hermione smiled at him. 'It'll be me and Ron. We fought You-know-who. Trust us. What can go wrong?'

Next time round 

"It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him."  
-J. R. R. Tolkien


	3. Chapter 3

Dusk comes early in Scotland during January, and Hermione was starting to worry. Ron had been out since morning, as he had for the last three days, trying to find their missing lake. Perhaps she was asking too much of him? After all, he had a job to do as well. She decided she would discuss it with him tonight. If he got back. Where was he? She looked out of the back door again. As the sun set, the temperature was starting to drop rapidly.

Then she saw him, a speck approaching from the south west. He quickly grew as he homed in on her. As he landed his broomstick, he stumbled slightly and she rushed forward to help. She could tell he was desperately cold and tired.

Just a few minutes later, he was sat in the kitchen in front of the range, eating thick warming soup that she had been cooking all day. His head drooped with weariness.

'Ron, perhaps we should give up the search. It's not fair on you'

'Sorry 'Miney, I should have told you, but I was sooo cold. I've found it, the lake. I'm sure it's the same one. We can apparate over there tomorrow, then use the broomstick to start searching. Harry was right, it isn't actually that far away.'

'Oh, Ron. Thank you! Thank you!' She threw her arms round his neck to kiss him. 'The beaded bag we used last year is already packed. It'll be just like old times!'

'Hopefully not. I'd like a few less people trying to kill us, if that's alright with you'

-o0o-

It was definately the right place, they landed on the same piece of shore they had reached after their escape from Gringotts. In the distance, they could see the mountain the dragon had disappeared over. Ron took his broomstick out of the bag.

'OK, ready to fly?'

'You know I'm not, Ron. I hate broomsticks, but I suppose there's no other way, is there?'

Hermione had never seen the fun in flying, and Ron being very good on a broom didn't help. He went much faster and higher than she would have liked. However, after a few minutes she hadn't fallen off, so opened her eyes. The view was startling. A light dusting of snow covered the heather clad mountain side, throwing dips and gullies in to clear relief. She could see deer, sheep and even a few highland cattle huddling for shelter wherever they could find it.

'You know, I think it could have stayed around here', Ron shouted back to her over the wind, 'it's got plenty of food around, and water. There's some cliffs over that way, let's take a closer look'.

As they moved in towards the cliffs they could, indeed, see the dark patches of caves cut in to the slopes. Then Hermione let out a yell.

'Down there! Look Ron, bones, I can see some bones.'

Sure enough, as they came in lower, Ron could see deer and cattle bones at the bottom of a steep scree slope. Not many, it was true, he counted maybe six skulls, but too many to be random, surely? Was that enough to mean the dragon was still here? How much did it eat? He didn't know. Perhaps it had stayed for a while, then moved on. He brought the broom in to land on a level patch of ground with a decent view. He didn't want to get ambushed.

Once the tent was up, they started looking round the area, seeing if they could find any other evidence for the dragon still being in the area. It was difficult work. The ground was steep and broken, with numerous gullies and ravines making progress slow. They often slipped on pieces of frost shattered rock that crumbled away as they trod on them and their hands were soon grazed and cut, leaving small traces of blood behind.

They returned to the tent that evening, welcoming the bluebell light they had used before, which made the interior cosily snug, despite the chill outside. Hermione had cast protective charms around them, which she thought would be good enough to at least warn them of an approaching dragon, if not actually keep it out.

The next day they continued the search. The bones they had seen could have fallen down the scree from any number of points, so they decided to eliminate each possibility. Ron still wasn't that interested in finding anything, but it was good to spend some time away from work, just him and Hermione enjoying each other's company.

On the third day, they were making there way around a small peak on the side of the mountain above the scree when Hermione found a gully running up in to the rocks. At the end, they could see a deer skeleton that had been scattered around.

'It's worth checking out, Ron. We can see if the bones are fresh or not.'

'I'm not sure 'Miney. Remember what Charlie said, this has only got one way in.'

'We won't be long, and we've been in this area for a while. I'm sure if it was close, we'd have seen it.'

They moved up the ravine to check out the bones. They still looked fairly white, not fresh but certainly not years old and some had clear gouges on them.

'Well, I don't know' said Hermione, 'they might be, but I'm not sure'

'Shut up' said Ron.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Hermione, shut up now'

'Ronald, what's got in to you? I'm just trying to mmph'

Ron had put his hand over her mouth. 'I told you to shut up. Now, I'm going to turn you round, very slowly. Do not make a noise'.

She felt herself being turned, still wondering why he had gagged her, and thinking how dead he was going to be when he let her go. She looked up, and felt her knees buckle. It was only Ron's free arm around her waist that kept her upright.

They had found the dragon.

Correction. The dragon had found them. It was currently blocking the entrance, its nose pointed towards them


	4. Chapter 4

They stood, frozen in terror at the sight in front of them. It was certainly "their" dragon. It was huge, with pale scales and opalescent eyes. It was moving it's head slowly from side to side, as if undecided what to do next. The smell it had been picking up over the past couple of days was human, a scent it associated with pain and imprisonment. But it also smelt blood, and that meant meat.

'Ron, I don't think it can see us' Hermione whispered 'can we get past it?'

'I don't think so, it will smell and hear us if we try. I've got an idea to gain some time. Give me your coat'

He took both coats, and creeping forward agonising slowly, he laid them out on the sides of the ravine and then returned to Hermione who was cowering behind some rocks. This confused the dragon. The scents seemed to be splitting. It could not tell how many were now in front of it.

'Should we try and stun it?' he said.

'I'm not sure that's a good idea' she replied, never for one second taking her eyes off the beast, 'remember when Viktor tried that? It thrashed around all over the place. It could crush us in here. Ron, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault.'

'We're in this together. Think, what else can we do? Cedric used transfiguration, but it didn't work too well either, and I don't think its eyes are good enough. Do you know the charm Fleur used?'

'No, I never asked, and I can't even guess'

'Harry!' Ron struggled to keep his voice low 'Harry used his broom. Hermione you can do non-verbal. Can you call my broomstick?'

Hermione pulled her wand ever so carefully from her pocket, and concentrated with all her might '_Accio broomstick_'.

The dragon had moved further in to the ravine, sniffing at the coats, moving its head from side to side. Would they have time before it found them? Suddenly, it cocked an ear to one side. It had heard the broom approaching from behind, which flew past and in to Ron's outstretched hand.

He mounted it. 'I can take us both; we don't have the room to climb with two. I'm going to try to draw it away. I love you.' and he kicked off.

Ron flew up and over the dragon, waiting for it to pick up his smell. But nothing happened. He realised the wind was taking his scent away. It was time for more direct action. He allowed the broom to drift down just behind the dragon's head and aimed a kick.

'OI, ROUND HERE…COME AND GET ME!!'

The dragon lifted and spun its head, swatting aimlessly with its front legs. Ron was ready to dive out of the way of the flame it must surely use against him, but again nothing happened. Ron continued to dart in and out, trying to rile the beast, to get it turn around, away from Hermione who was watching with scared eyes. Ron wanted to get it up in to the air and following him, but still nothing. He kept darting in and out of range, shouting and hollering, aiming a kick or a slap. He must get it angry enough to attack. Ron couldn't work out why the dragon it wouldn't. What was it scared of?

Then he realised. He knew what was wrong, and in that moment he knew what he had to do. It was not what he wanted, but sometimes, the choice is made for you. He moved back in closer to the dragon, just in front of its massive jaws. Ron looked up at the eyes, milky white and unseeing.

'Come on, dragon. Come with me'. He wasn't shouting, his voice was gentle, almost pleading. 'I'll make it right'

He moved slowly forward, still calling the dragon, urging it on. It started to move.

'Come on, that's right. I'm here in front of you. Keep coming.' He allowed the dragon to get closer, making sure his scent was getting in to those nostrils. 'That's right, not far now'

He had moved the beast to the top of the scree slope; it needed just two more steps. The dragon moved again, but instead of solid ground, it just felt shattered rocks moving under its feet. It panicked and leapt up, scrabbling for purchase as it slid faster and faster downhill. Then it tripped, and was tumbling and rolling, twisting as it tried desperately to right itself and halt the downward plunge. There was nothing it could do. Gravity carried it right in to the jagged rocks at the bottom. It hit with a sickening thud, and then lay still. He looked down once, and turned the broom back for Hermione.

She came running out at him, face twisted and hands slapping.

'WHY, RON, WHY? WE DIDN'T COME HERE TO KILL IT. Why? I HATE you!!'

He caught her by the wrists, and pinned her hands to her side, she struggled madly to break his grip.

'LISTEN TO ME!! I had to do that. Didn't you see? It was blind! It was starving, that's why it couldn't fly or flame me. It had run out of that gas Charlie told us about. It was dying, and it would have been a slow miserable death.' Hermione had stopped fighting, and he held her close, knowing she was crying. 'You were right 'Miney, we owed it. I couldn't do anything to help it, but I could make sure it didn't have to suffer '

She was crying properly now, as what he had said sunk in. Maybe it was for others reasons as well. The dragon was a victim of Voldemort too, just like all the others who had had to die. And, maybe, she was crying because she realised that she was no longer a child. Sometimes things don't go to plan; sometimes there just can't be a happy ending.

She looked up at Ron, tears running down her face.

'I want to go and see it. Will you take me? Please?'

They mounted the broom and he carried her gently, almost reverently, down the slope to where the dragon lay; twisted and battered, but still majestic in death. She walked towards it, seeing the glazed eyes, the sunken skin and flaking scales. There were even patches of fungus here and there, signs of an infection it had not had the strength to fight off. She put a hand out. It was important to her that she made contact.

'I'm sorry it had to end this way. We never wanted it to. We just wanted to see that you were alright. I'm sorry, please forgive us.' A tear fell from her face on to its head.

Ron walked up to stand besides her, putting his hand around her waist. She rested her head against his chest.

'Come on, Hermione. Let's go home'.


	5. Epilogue

Nineteen Days Later

'Ron' prod, shake, prod 'Are you asleep?' prod, prod, shake.

'Ugh, wha.? 'Miney, IT'S 2 O'CLOCK!! What's wrong?' Ron leapt up in panic, assuming, _at least_, that the house was on fire.

'Gringotts have still got dragons, haven't they?'

'Wha..?'

'Well, I've been thinking, and I don't think its right. I think we should try and get them released. Properly released, with a care programme and everything. It could be the Campaign for the Release of Underground Dragons'

Ron slumped back on to the pillow with a groan.

'Hermione, _my sweet_, have you just woken me up at 2 A.M. to ask me to walk round wearing a badge saying "crud"?'

'It's C.R.U.D, Ronald'

There was no doubt about it; life with Hermione was never going to be boring.

'I'll find the collecting tin tomorrow. Now go back to sleep. Please.'

….

'Ron?'

….

'Ron?'

….

'Oh, what is it _now_?'

'I'm feeling...a little bit …well...grateful'

That woke him up.

Fin


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